Upon arriving at the scene of the accident, I grab some disinfecting wipes, wipe the little poopy prints from the crib and run to get a camera. I was laughing because I was expecting a Stacy Pettersen-size poop-tastrophe and was looking for the artwork and poop painted nightmare. Three little round stains on the sheets. I'm pretty sure my husband thought it would kill us all. Off I went to grab my phone for pictures, but before I could return, Mark had already stripped the ridiculously soiled sheets out of the crib. It's sad that I laugh, I just know one day we will really see what a poop-tastrophe is...and I pray I can get a picture of my husband's shocked face. ;)

6 comments:
Oh, your day is coming! =)
Oh I love that.. I was so impressed that you stepped up to clean it up... being prego and all. I would have laid in bed and let Heath work his magic.. You are amazing.. I wish you could have snuck a pic of Mark face as he cleaned up the Poop-tastrophe FUNNY!
That is hilarious! Men are so funny sometimes. Sometimes they just have no clue!
I hope for your sake that he will never know! I would never wish poop-tastrophes on anybody! Well, maybe I would with them on my 2 girls that gave me regular ones when they were little!
That's hilarious Casey! We've had a couple, but none as bad as what my MIL had to deal with thankfully! :)
That is great! We had a rocket poop catastrophy when our little miss was only a couple months old. Poop on the walls, poop on the door, poop on mom. It was quite an experience!
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